


I'd Rather Worship You

by dreamingKatfish



Series: DR GTA!AU [6]
Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Body Worship, First Time, GTA!AU, I'm not sure how else to tag this, M/M, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:34:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22795642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingKatfish/pseuds/dreamingKatfish
Summary: Rough sex written softly because the author likes juxtaposition
Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Series: DR GTA!AU [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1324448
Comments: 23
Kudos: 124





	I'd Rather Worship You

**Author's Note:**

> This is better called I listen to Take Me to Church for several hours on end and wanted to write the crime boys but like softly even if it's actually rough sex

A quiet moan slipped from Ouma’s mouth as Saihara combed his fingers through Ouma’s hair. A shudder rocking through him at the motion. Ouma grabs and tugs at the edges of Saihara’s shirt, trying to pull it up. But Saihara breaks the kiss and backs away with a, “Wait, wait.” he huffs out a breath. “Hold on, we need to talk about this.”

“What’s there to talk about?” Ouma tries to evade. But Saihara’s hands are gentle around his face. Ouma sighs. “Just-” He scrunches his face up, “Just don’t be soft on me.” He meets Saihara’s eyes, “I can handle it, alright?” He probably means it differently as well, but Saihara doesn’t mention it, he just makes a note to himself.

Saihara wants to nod but shakes his head. Still missing something, “Safe words first.”

Ouma sits back and throws his hands up, “Fucking, I don’t know!” He sighs, “Fucking stoplight colors or whatever. Green, go. Yellow, pause. And fucking red, stop.” He looks back at Saihara, “Good enough for you?” Saihara isn’t perturbed. He knows how much Ouma hates talking about it, but at the same time he needs to say something at least otherwise Saihara might hurt him on accident. And Saihara doesn’t want to even think about that.

So instead he nods and presses a firm kiss to Ouma’s mouth, quietly removing Ouma’s shirt as he does so. He pulls back and lets Ouma remove his shirt as well. And Saihara switches their position to sit on top of Ouma. He experimentally tries squeezing Ouma’s hips tightly, perking up upon seeing Ouma’s grateful smile. He keeps the tight hold as he leans down to kiss Ouma again. Their lips will definitely be bruised in the morning with how hard they press against each other, but Saihara doesn’t mind as long as Ouma is okay. 

They pull back and Saihara plants kisses down Ouma’s jaw and neck, biting hard enough to bruise. But Ouma just tilts his head to give Saihara better access to his neck, letting out a breathy sigh. Saihara presses firm kisses to all the scars across his neck. “You’re stronger than you, you know that right?” Saihara whispers into the air. He presses down another kiss. “They tried to kill you, yet you came back stronger than ever.” Another kiss. Hands pressed against Ouma’s waist hard enough to bruise, “You could take god in a fight I bet.” Ouma snorts, slightly shaking his head. Saihara pulls him back down into a kiss. “I’m serious.”

Ouma’s raises an eyebrow, “You having fun?” Saihara laughs against his lips, but he doesn’t answer with words, just another firm kiss. Ouma breathes out a laugh of his own. Saihara grabs Ouma’s wrist and plants a kiss to his palm without breaking eye-contact. And Ouma feels a breath catch in his throat as Saihara presses kisses down his arm, taking extra time on each scar that lines his arm. 

“You’re beautiful.” He presses a kiss to Ouma’s lips. “Absolutely gorgeous.” He moves to the other arm, this time working from his shoulder to his hand instead. “Better than the most beloved paintings.” A kiss to Ouma’s knuckles. “Better than the night sky.” A kiss to his wrist. “Better than life itself.” And Ouma can only stare at Saihara, hand in the other’s firm grasp. He pulls Ouma in for a slow kiss and his eyes flutter shut. His hands tracing up Ouma’s sides as if to commit every line to memory, but never once soft. And Ouma finds he no longer cares how long this takes as long Saihara keeps talking. Saihara pulls back just enough to send praises into Ouma’s lungs. 

And Ouma brings his hands to the front of Saihara’s pants, unbuckling his belt in a practiced motion despite never having done this with Saihara before. But god it feels familiar in a good way for once. And Saihara lets him, choosing to instead kiss Ouma’s face. Whispering words far too sweet than for what they’re doing. And soon after Saihara’s pants end up off to the side somewhere, Ouma’s follows suit. Saihara kissing his lips one last time before moving down his chest, sweeping from scar to scar and everything in between. “You are the only heaven I want.” Ouma’s heart pounds under Saihara’s lips and his breath slips away from him. He’s glad he’s lying down right now, he doesn’t think he could hold himself up right now. 

Saihara’s dull nails dig into his thighs and Ouma swears if he were to die now he’d die fulfilled. But he doesn’t die, instead, their boxers join their pants and Saihara is kissing the insides of thighs. His fingers tracing scars, his lips following soon after. Ouma feels exposed but for once it’s in the best way possible. But then again that’s Saihara for him. Saihara chisels at his walls until there’s nothing left for him to hide behind. But he isn’t scared. Because Saihara is oh so careful with him. Not in the way he was, never that way. Instead, it’s in a way only Saihara can. And Ouma has never felt so free. 

Saihara makes his way back to Ouma’s face and they share another long kiss. It used to burn as if someone set him on fire. But now Saihara makes him warm like being wrapped in a cozy blanket even as bruises blossom over him. In between every breath is love. It’s more than he deserves, but Saihara worships his castle of sin anyway. Saihara speaks with reverence as if he were trying to pay tribute to a god. Words slipping off his tongue like prayers as he slips a lubed finger into Ouma. And Ouma loses any thoughts he has left. His head in the clouds as Saihara stretches him open. 

And Ouma clutches his hands in Saihara’s hair as he drags him down into a harsh kiss. Hard presses against the other’s lips as if it could convey every ounce of love in him for the man above him. And he moans as Saihara fills him with a quick snap of his hips. He immediately wraps his legs around the other’s back pulling him in tight. His mind blanks as the two breath labored breaths in between in rock of their hips, harshly meeting in the middle. Saihara breathless babbles above him, words of devotion slipping into the air with no sign of stopping any time soon. And Ouma feels simultaneously lighter and heavier than he ever has before. His limbs tremble, breath caught somewhere between his throat and his lungs. 

His breath hitches and feels himself seize up and the two of them get splattered. Saihara follows in suit and for once Ouma doesn’t feel gross. Saihara collapses next to him, sweat causing him to shine in the light. But it’s nothing in comparison to how brightly he smiles at Ouma even as he’s fighting for his breath back. Saihara tangles their hands together and Ouma can’t stop him from squeezing it with a smile. He knows his face must be flushed by now, but he can’t bring himself to mind the heat. It feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest. He never realized how heavy he felt before. He wonders if this was how sex was always meant to feel. 

“I love you.” Saihara whispers between breaths. And Ouma decides that yes, yes this is how it’s meant to feel. 

And though Saihara never would expect him to say it back, Ouma finally responds with, “I love you, too.” He takes delight in how Saihara’s eyes and smile widen. And Ouma knows he means it when he said it. 

After laying down for a while longer Saihara sits up and holds a hand out to Ouma. Ouma doesn’t hesitate to take it, letting himself be pulled up and into the bathroom. They step into the shower and wash off the sweat and grime off each other. Saihara steps out to fill the tub and Ouma washes his hair. Ouma turns off the shower and pulls Saihara into the tub with him. Instantly the two of them curling around each other. They don’t speak, but they don’t need to. Ouma presses a kiss to the corner of Saihara’s lips in a silent thank you for everything. Saihara plants a kiss to Ouma’s crown in return his own silent thank you for letting him do this with him. He’d wait forever if he had to and would accept never if it meant he could be with Ouma. He combs his finger’s through Ouma’s hair and Ouma traces patterns, both familiar and unfamiliar on him. 

But eventually, they get out and drain the tub. Carefully drying off before getting dressed. Ouma removes the soiled covers as Saihara sets down fresh ones. They shut off the light and slip under the fresh blankets. Saihara cups Ouma’s face, giving him a chaste kiss. Rubbing his thumb across Ouma’s cheek as Ouma gently opens his eyes to meet Saihara’s. They press their foreheads together before slipping away and laying down. Their hands intertwined as they drift off to sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, this is my first time writing smut so I don't how good it is, but tbh I like it so I guess that's all that matters.


End file.
